Being a writer is easy .Just strip completely and throw yourself on the paper

Sunday, May 1, 2011

THE DARK MONSOON ...

Kali could hear the rumbling ….far away .

‘It’s been so dry’ , she thought .

Her fingers felt scaly …drops of sweat trickled down her forehead …sometimes resting on her lashes as if taking a break , before falling to the ground .

The leaves felt so brittle … birds had been relatively silent .

Ah ! The dreadful summers … And yet , the feeling of lying on the hard mat on the ground , with that smell of wet grass from the cooler ….sometimes , it all seemed worth it.

She kicked the door open . The heated marble steps made her curl her toes and walk .

She literally skipped her way to the grassy lawn .

ouch ! even the blades of grass seem to be rising against the weather .

She could dimly smell the flowers in the air . And yet , a different stronger smell reached her . The smell she knew she loved . Powerful , stinging yet intoxicating … the smell of grass when it first ….

TUP.

It fell on her nose . She turned her head to the sky . so many of them bombarded down . sliding from her forehead , over the nose bridge … the eyelids forced half shut … The parched lips licking and soaking them all . She felt a naughty drop enter her ears .

And before she knew , her hands were open … and the rain hugged her .

That shirt clinging to her back , as if afraid of being washed away by the rain .

Her bosom heaving and falling…that slant waist , like a puja vessel being washed for a ceremony .

Even the belly button was wet … as if the drops collected there ..to form a steadilytrickling stream downwards .

The hands washing away tons n thousands of drops from her face and messing up those hair , that looked so elegantly draped moments back .

The skirt wrapped around her legs … that grass seems to have melted . She could feel rubble and the mud clinging to her soles .

She slipped and skidded a bit few times. But still danced .

The thundering clouds , her music …. And the mighty monsoon , her partner .

Twirl and twirl …and wave your hands wild ….till ,

“AAAH “ , She sat on the ground …

“KALI ! How many times have I told you …do not go out without your stick . You always forget where the trees are . Now get in , before you catch cold “